


Fire and Ice

by MarsDragon



Category: Psychic Force
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 06:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18219329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsDragon/pseuds/MarsDragon
Summary: This is another collection of random scraps of fic that aren't long enough to justify posting on their own, but now it's for Psychic Force.





	1. Chapter 1

"Happy Birthday, Emilio!" 

Burn and Wendy cheered while Emilio 'blew out' the sparks Burn kept suspended over the cheap grocery store cake. Wendy had wanted to try her hand at making one of her own, but had given up on realising they'd also have to buy a pan, measuring cups, a bigger bowl - too much stuff to haul around. They hadn't even been able to justify buying candles, not when Burn had his powers. They'd have to move on soon and money was tight; Burn was the only one able to get a regular job. Wendy was...well, an illegal immigrant, and no one wanted to risk having Emilio interact with the general public. Turned out high school dropouts and illegal immigrants didn't earn much money.

But that was all right. They'd gotten a cake, and sort-of candles, and a few presents, and that was the important bit. Emilio smiled that sweet, grateful little smile he had and held his new books close to his chest - they weren't great literature, _The Sneetches_ and _The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins_ \- but Emilio had a hard time reading Russian, let alone English. Dr Seuss was funny and God knew Emilio could use some jokes in his life, and Burn had always liked Bartholomew Cubbins's hats.

The party, such as it was, died down pretty quick after that. Wendy scampered off to walk the dogs she was looking after over the weekend and Emilio gathered up the cake to go in the fridge. He gave Burn an odd look for taking an extra slice along with his own half-eaten one, but didn't say anything. He was quiet like that.

Maybe he knew.

Burn didn't let it bother him either way. He slung the extra bag from the bookstore over his arm and headed out to the roof. 

Flying was pretty damn convenient sometimes. He didn't know how he'd lived without it, when he was pounding on some old trapdoor with one hand, two slices of cake in the other, and a bag in his face, until the stupid thing finally gave way and let him out into the chill air. 

Burn settled himself against a heating vent and waited. 

Flakes of snow drifted down, and he pulled himself further into his jacket. Fuck winter. Technically New York was better than Iowa, but that was like saying a punch in the face was better than getting brained with a bat. It still sucked. 

The snow kept falling.

The lights were pretty. Thousands of people, going about their daily lives, worrying about everything but psychics. He'd been like that once.

His ass was going numb. Burn grumbled and stood up to stretch out the kinks. He stomped around the rooftop for a bit, trying to keep warm.

Keith probably wasn't going to come.

There wasn't much reason for him to show up anyway. New York was full of people - regular people. NOA headquarters was all the way across the continent. He probably had other things to do. It was pretty much certain he didn't know Burn was sitting out here freezing his ass off waiting for him. Even if he did, he might not-

Burn wouldn't accept that. Keith would never be so far gone he wouldn't want to see Burn. Just like Burn would never not want to see Keith.

But it wasn't like Burn was able to just walk up to NOA HQ and deliver his present either. Not after the...explosive...way he'd left. So he was left with sitting out here and hoping Keith would just happen to pick his birthday to drop by. Burn flopped back onto the rooftop with a huff. Well, there was something to try...

Burn tried to settle his thoughts. Just like Keith had told him, way back when, relax, reach out, touch someone's mind...There was Emilio, glowing with happiness, there was that weird background murmur from all the humans around...but nothing else. Not even Wendy. Burn let his head drop back against the vent with a nice, solid thunk. He was just no good at this mystic communication shit. Not his style.

One more try. It was still cold as balls, but Burn didn't give up that easily. He summoned up all his strength, all the fire, and shouted at the top of his mental lungs: "KEITH! I GOT SOMETHING FOR YA!"

Emilio didn't say anything. Probably a good thing. 

Still cold. Burn settled down in his jacket again and gave Keith five more minutes.

Ten. 

Twenty minutes later Burn stood up and shook off the snow. So much for that. 

"What do you want?" 

Burn's heart jumped. He turned, slowly, no sudden movements, and...stopped. Keith was at the opposite edge of the roof, not even standing on the edge but floating just beyond it, his arms folded, expression guarded and wary. For the life of him Burn couldn't think of what to say. 

"Burn?" Keith's expression shifted, just a little. Curious, not quite ready to attack. 

It was enough. Burn laughed, sudden and happy, and said, "Like I said, I got something for ya. Come on over, I swear it's not a punch to the face."

Keith jerked back, like he was expecting the punch from all the way over there, but then laughed himself. Not like he used to, more quiet and dry, but he stopped looking like he was waiting for a fight. "What brought this on then?" he asked.

"Dumbass. It's your birthday, ain't it?"

That got Keith. He was close enough Burn could feel the changes himself - sharp, bright surprise, a faint dusting of confusion, and heavy disbelief mixed with hope. He stepped towards Burn. "You remembered?" 

"Well, yeah." Burn scratched at his nose, feeling a little embarrassed. He hadn't meant anything big by it, just that Keith had been so happy at Burn's birthday, back on the farm....he'd wanted to get Keith something. He wanted to make Keith that happy again. That's what friends did, right? "It's easy to remember, since it's Valentine's Day too. A-anyway! Here's some cake!" He grabbed the cake from the narrow clear space under an overhang and held it out.

"Thank you," Keith said with such sincerity it hurt. Burn couldn't look him in the eyes while he made the sparks for candles, 17 little flames hovering more-or-less over the little slice. "You blow them out, right?" Keith said, amused and a bit fond.

"And make a wish. But don't tell anyone what it is, or it won't come true." 

It was quiet while Keith gently puffed over the sparks. Even the traffic was distant and muffled. For just a moment, it felt like they were the only people in the world, just the two of them surrounded by snow and darkness, lit only by those small flames that snapped out on command. 

"Happy birthday," Burn said quietly. 

They pressed close together against the old heating vent, eating the last of the cake and watching the city glow in front of them, distant behind the soft fall of snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Valentine's Day 2016, when I was far away from my books and couldn't check when Emilio's birthday actually is. (2/21, a week after Keith) Oops.


	2. Pre-PF1, Keith/Burn

"You look like you're settling in." Burn looked up from his weeding to see Keith standing behind him. He was smiling, open and happy, even if his eyes were tired around the edges. 

There was a smear of blood across his cheek, and Burn didn't think it was Keith's. 

The weed he was holding withered in his hand under a sudden heat. He put it in the pile next to him without looking and tried to give Keith a sincere smile back. "A bit, a bit. I'm pretty qualified at taking care of plants by now, you know." 

That made Keith laugh, and it never stopped amazing Burn to hear it. He dropped down next to Burn, so close Burn could smell the scent of crisp snow that always seemed to hover around Keith under the sweat and blood. "I'm happy. I'm really happy you're here with us, Burn. Where no one can split us apart again." 

He was. Burn could feel Keith's happiness at his presence, even with his dulled senses. Keith was happier than he'd ever been to have Burn next to him. So just for the moment, Burn rested his arm around Keith's shoulders and leaned in so they were pressed together, so close their faces nearly touched, and whispered just for Keith, "Yeah, I know."

He wasn't going to spend another week in this madhouse. No matter what Keith thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for 100 words of your favorite rarepair back in 2016.


	3. Pre-PF1, Burn

Burn stared at his test paper and tried to remember what the quadratic formula was.

_the asphalt cutting into his arm, the soldier's knee pressed against his kidney_

He breathed in and out, slowly. He had to focus. If he could just pass this class, he could avoid repeating junior year. Then he could-

_Keith reached out for him, crying and struggling, and Burn couldn't move_

The paper blurred beneath him, like he was looking at it through flames. Like they'd used against Keith. He could still feel the heat of them, hear the crackle and roar as they fired against Keith, Keith who only wanted to curl up in a chair and read, Keith who laughed from the bottom of his heart, who looked at Burn like no one else ever had-

Keith was gone now. They'd dragged him away and left Burn with scrapes, bruises, and a horrible empty feeling where his heart used to be. 

And now Keith would be back there, the place he never talked about, the place that made him wake up screaming every night, the place that gave him the scars on his wrists he tried to hide, the place that would send a hundred soldiers to collect one kid....

...while Burn just sat here in an uncomfortable wooden chair, listening to the old AC unit creak and straining his brain to remember _garbage_ he'd never, ever use in his life. 

And when this was done he'd just step out into the sunshine and Keith wouldn't be there next to him, Keith would never walk him home from school again, they'd never go to the ice cream place or the library or the park because Keith was _gone_ and no damn Humans for Psychics would ever bring him back!

He felt hot in a way that had nothing to with the temperature outside. He was burning up, like a fire in his soul, and if he'd just had that fire that night-

Fuck this. Fuck all of it. Burn slammed his pencil down and walked out. He didn't need an education. He didn't need to go to college. He didn't need to keep his head down and pretend he'd never met that strange, shy boy who jumped out in front of his bike and given him the best summer of his life.

He just needed to find Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for 100 words of exams back in 2017


	4. Timeline vague, Carlo/Keith

The humans were dead or fled. Mostly dead. All that was left was getting all their brothers and sisters out of the awful experiments they were trapped in, those in the cells already freed and being comforted by other NOA members. 

It was always a wonderful feeling to see a lab destroyed. There were times in the fighting where Carlo shook and could hardly strike for all the terrible memories just being in these bright, sterile halls brought back, but it was all worth it to see them smeared with human blood. He kicked a guard's corpse out of the way, feeling a slow, deep satisfaction in the way it limply fell to the floor. That was one that would never again raise a hand to a psychic. 

Sir Keith was just ahead, blasting away a heavy door as if it was nothing - and it was nothing, nothing against his strength. Carlo could feel the heavy, panicked minds of the psychics inside - one crackling, jumpy, pure electric, the other rushing, howling, a storm. Electricity and wind, Carlo categorized at a single touch, and a part of his mind started fitting them into squads where their talents would be best used. But another felt the exact shape of their fear, their desperation, and recognized it. 

The filthy humans. Another breeding program?

Carlo flew forward, ready to help. Sir Keith was a great man, a wonderful man, but he...Carlo did not believe he had been forced in such a way. He hadn't been held down, injected, thrown into a room with a strange sister - or worse, a known one - and left there. Left for 'nature to take its course'. 

He got there after Sir Keith had stepped inside, mind and heart open to the terrified psychics inside, and even from the door he could smell...something wrong. Something sweet and dark in the air, something that tasted of rotten spring on his tongue. It distracted him enough that he didn't say anything when Sir Keith led the shivering pair outside, both of them flushed and crying in shame and relief, and then he had his arms full trying to comfort them enough to get them to the others, who would have water, clothes, and a tone-master to sing them to blessed rest. 

It wasn't until a short time later, when he and Sir Keith were making their final check of the base, just in case there was a child or unconscious comrade they had missed, that Carlo noticed the prickling heat under his clothes. His first instinct was to dismiss it. He was excited after the battle. It was pleasure at striking another blow against the humans. But that taste, that sickly sweet rotted taste in the back of his throat... 

He looked at Sir Keith and saw soft, pale skin, waiting to be touched. Hard blue eyes that could, perhaps, soften. Lips he ached to taste. And all of that had happened before, but now Sir Keith was stumbling, a flush rising on his cheeks, breath shortening to quiet pants. Carlo rushed forward without thinking, catching Sir Keith's arm, feeling it tremble under his touch. Sir Keith turned to him, and Carlo's heart nearly stopped, for he had never imagined Sir Keith would look at him with such eyes. 

His shameful, hidden dreams had come true and it was all the fault of the filthy humans and their filthy drugs. Carlo would kill them all again, if he could. 

"In the room...a gas..." Sir Keith murmured to himself. "It must have been. Carlo...Carlo, you should leave. Find the others..."

"I will not!" Carlo pressed himself up against Sir Keith, driving them both against the wall. "This...this is because of the humans, but you should not suffer alone. I'll be with you." 

Sir Keith leaned against him, pinned between Carlo and the wall. His breath puffed against Carlo's neck, his arm laid across Carlo's shoulder. Carlo could feel the heat between them, heat that shouldn't exist for ice and water. He lowered them both to the floor, blasting a corpse away with a burst of water. Sir Keith didn't even seem to notice, just going quiet and obedient like Sir Keith should never, _ever_ be. 

Once again the murderous urge to destroy the humans that did this welled up in him, and once again Carlo tamped it down. Sir Keith needed him. 

"It should not last long," Carlo soothed, aware of the terrible irony in him soothing Sir Keith. "I'll-" his hand skittered down Sir Keith's side, rubbed slow circles on Sir Keith's thigh, all without his will. "I'll help. They...they did this to me, long ago. It's best to just get it out." One shameful part of himself revealed, though Sir Keith never blamed anyone for the labs. The part of him that enjoyed the way Sir Keith looked now, desperate and wanting, the part of him that wanted this...that was the drug. Surely it was the drug. Carlo would not do this of his own will. Surely.

"No-" Sir Keith tossed his head to the side, baring his long neck. Carlo held back from kissing it. "No," he repeated, dazed but firm. "This isn't- Carlo, I want...oh." His hands found Carlo's shoulders and stayed there, digging in with all his strength. His thighs shook beneath Carlo's hands, the heat bleeding through his thin white trousers. "I need...I- Burn!" 

"It's all right," Carlo soothed again, stroking his hands further up, finding and undoing Sir Keith's belt. He was so close... He pressed himself up against Sir Keith, head resting against the wall. "It's so hot...use your powers, try to cool down..."

"No," Sir Keith said again, firmly. "That's not..." He lost his train of thought again as Carlo's hands finally undid the belt and slipped into his pants. Carlo was so eager, so desperate to touch he nearly missed Sir Keith's next words. "Not you...Burn...ah, Burn!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for 100 words of sex pollen in 2017. I feel like I should do more with Carlo.


	5. 2012, Keith/Burn

"It's you who need to open your eyes, Burn. Are you blind to what you have seen? To what the humans have done?"

"That doesn't justify anything!" It didn't justify terrorism or murder or making Wendy and Emilio fight, it didn't justify NOA, and it sure as hell didn't justify this ice-golem in place of his dearest friend. 

Keith's cold eyes narrowed, Burn dropped into a half-crouch, and it was on. 

It was a stalemate in under ten seconds. Every ice lance Keith crafted was melted into vapor by Burn's flames. Every fireball Burn threw was snuffed into embers by Keith's frost. Burn rushed forward with a wild punch - if his powers wouldn't do the job then he still had his fists - and it landed just fine, but Keith snapped back with a solid kick and where had he learned to fight like that? Burn ate two more chops to the face before he got away, but not without smashing his foot right into Keith's stomach.

It was exhilarating. It was maddening. It was horrible. Burn felt like he was falling, like he was compacted to one single point, like everything he was was being consumed in flame. And that was fine because all he had to stop was stop the madness, stop the killing, /stop Keith/ no matter what. 

Keith gestured and Burn's entire world was ice, cold and frozen and not painful but just nothing for one brutal second before he was smashed to the ground and Keith was on top of him. There was nothing left of the shy boy Burn knew in that face.

A memory came to Burn, suddenly. Wendy looking at from under the brim of her hat, right before he'd left. Biting her lip, and fiddling with her braid, all her exuberant energy frittered away in nerves. "You know...he did rescue us." 

Burn had nodded, solemn.

"He's not going to stop until you kill him," she had added quietly. 

At the time Burn had shrugged it off. He hadn't wanted to think about killing Keith, so he put it off until later.

It was later.

Waves of cold were gathering to Keith's hand. His eyes were bright and wet and Burn recognized them from the night Keith had been taken from him, those eyes filled with hopeless desperation.

He could still strike. He was just slightly faster than Keith. He could raise his hand, drive fire right into Keith's chest, and end this like he'd come here to do.

What did he really want? 

Burn flung both arms around Keith and dragged him close, until his face was buried in Keith's hair and his flames were licking at Keith's heart.

He could feel Keith, all craggy ice and dangerous pitfalls, cold walls and clinical torture, and all he could do was cling harder and remember all the warmth and kindness he'd been lucky enough to know.

He couldn't throw away everything he'd ever known for Keith's bloody utopia. He couldn't throw away his parents, his dog, or all the wonderful people he'd met while trying to find Keith. He couldn't even throw away the jerks. 

The ice covering Keith's heart melted as Keith slowly relaxed into the embrace and the frost cooled Burn's fury to embers.

"Keith, listen to me-"

"Burn, are you still..." The words trailed off as Keith's breath puffed hesitating across Burn's neck. 

"No, just...you listen to me, and I'll listen to you, and...I don't know. We'll work it out." Burn honestly had no idea how to fix anything to do with psychics and humans. Maybe it had already gone too far. 

But Keith was solid and heavy on top of him and everything else could wait. 

He'd finally done what he'd set out to do five years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for...I think Valentine's Day 2018. 
> 
> ...Keith's birthday is way easier to remember than Burn's okay.


	6. 2012, Keith/Burn

Ice smothered flame, and his first, best, deepest friend, the one person who really cared about him in all the world -

\- fell to the cold metal floor, dead. 

"Burn... Burn! Why can't you understand?"

Keith clutched the body to him, burying his face against it, desperate for that small bit of fading warmth, the reminder that just seconds before, this had been a living person. A person who had extended his hand to a runaway boy, who had never given up searching, who had /loved/ -

A sacrifice for the new world.

Keith pulled back and studied the tired face, the clear eyes that would never open again. He wished Burn looked just a bit more at peace. 

He could feel the warmth running out of his heart. Now Burn was dead there was nothing to feed it, nothing to live for but the dream of utopia...and Keith knew, in a cold, detached sort of way, that while he /would/ build a world for psychics, he /would/ destroy the humans and grant his brothers and sisters the bright future they deserved...it would never be his utopia. Not anymore.

Keith kissed those still lips and slowly got to his feet. 

There was work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for 100 words of shipfic 90% of meme won't care about in 2018. 
> 
> You know, I've always felt the fundamental difference between Keith and Carlo is that Keith is willing to sacrifice the person he loves the most for his ideals and Carlo demonstrably isn't.


	7. Between 1 and 2012, Keith/Burn

The room was as quiet as always, a constant soft mechanical humming the only sound. It was buried in the back of NOA's new facility, where most people would never even know it existed. The walls were cold and sterile, the lighting harsh and the shadows sharp. There had been no attempt to make it more cheerful or homey. It was not a place for life.

Keith stood in front of the one feature of the room, hand outstretched as if in greeting. There was no one to greet. Just a silent statis pod holding a young man. 

"Hello," Keith said. His voice was warmer than it ever was outside. "You're still sleeping? It's been over a year, Burn. When are you going to wake up?"

There was no reply. The mechanical hum continued.

"It's my birthday. I haven't told anyone else - I don't remember if I ever told you. I wasn't keeping track when we met."

In other parts of NOA's headquarters, there were Valentine's Day celebrations. A few of the psychics who cared to remember their human lives had organized card and candy exchanges for a bit of cheer and familiarty among the never-ending war. There was music, dancing, crafts, and sometimes laughter. 

In the room Keith moved closer to his sleeping friend. His hand brushed the cool glass cover of the pod, over the sleeper's face and down to his chest. "I forgot it was Valentine's Day too. I've forgotten a lot...everything seems so much harder now. Ever since you showed up again..." Frost bloomed under his fingers and slowly outlined a heart. 

"When you wake up, we'll finish this. You wouldn't have it any other way, would you? I want you beside me, but..." But if he gave up he wouldn't be Burn anymore, and that would be worse. 

The frost spread, forming loops and swirls, a fanged dragon, the impression of a bird. Then Keith raised his hand and it all dissolved into the air. 

Keith left, and the room was quiet once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Valentine's Day 2019. Do I have a theme or what?


End file.
